


Stake and Eggs

by SwoodMaxProductions



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [8]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Blood and Injury, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pain, Platonic Affection, Post-Majora’s Mask, Stabbing, Vulnerability, Whump, collapse, painful healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24064675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwoodMaxProductions/pseuds/SwoodMaxProductions
Summary: (Bad Things Happen Bingo, prompt: Stabbing)The Happy Mask Salesman arrives one night. He’s very, very hurt.
Relationships: Link & the Happy Mask Salesman
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1500902
Comments: 11
Kudos: 34





	Stake and Eggs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dmichelle312](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dmichelle312/gifts), [therelevanceofpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/therelevanceofpie/gifts).



> I couldn’t come up a better title. The shitpost gremlins that live in my brain got to name this one, I’m sorry.

The night was pierced by hellish red eyes, their owner lurching unsteadily away from the mana-charred corpses of a party of monster hunters. The red-eyed being spared a glance back. Such a pity they'd foregone hunting monsters in favor of more lucrative, if morally reprehensible, targets… He'd always said that the best Hunters were those who could tell who the real monsters are… Saving villages from eldritch spawn and such was certainly a more productive endeavor than stabbing tiny merchants half your size for some cult’s blood money. And that brought him back to the matter he'd been TRYING not to think about too much-- the very, very pressing issue of the ‘sacred’ sealing spike blazing with excruciating arcane fire shoved a few inches deep just below his sternum.

The Happy Mask Salesman squeezed his eyes shut and leaned heavily against the nearest tree, clutching the folds of his oversized purple coat to the wound-- and choking back a whimper at the sharp blast of pain from the increase of pressure. Gritting his teeth and bracing himself, he wrapped his bony fingers around the engraved shaft and gave it a sharp tug. The shrill cry of pain he made was this time too sudden and involuntary to bite back.

Panting, trying to catch his breath, the Salesman pushed his weight back onto his feet again. He had to get it out. He had to. He didn't even want to know the full amount of blood that coated his hands, but from a slit-pupiled glance in the dark and the slickness he could feel on his fingers, it was bad. He had to get to Link.

Link could get the spike out. Link was chosen by the gods-- that could override the spike’s searing anti-removal enchantments. Lon Lon Ranch, he could get help, he could get LINK, he could get rid of the damned spike sending burning agony through his veins every second…

He stumbled forward, nearly doubled over, keeping pressure on his bleeding chest as best he could. He had to get to the ranch. He HAD to.

~~~~

THUMP! Thump thump thump.

Link jumped, backing away from the door of the large shed he now inhabited. What could be out there clawing at the door?! How did it get past the gates?

How—

Thump. 

“Link…”

The weak voice made Link immediately head for the door instead of his sword. It was the Happy Mask Salesman. And he was hurt. But when he opened the door, Link was suddenly hit with a tiny wizard slumping into his arms, and he was definitely not prepared for just HOW hurt the Salesman was.

“Hunters. They stabbed me…”

The Salesman moved his trembling hand, keeping his other arm latched onto Link for dear life, and sure enough, there was a runed, angrily glowing spike embedded in the man’s chest, bleeding badly. Knowing the Salesman always wore several layers of clothes, the size of the visible bloodstain was even more shocking.

“Get it out… I can’t… please… I’ve got just enough magic to heal…”

Link uncertainly reached for the spike, worried sick, but afraid he’d hurt the poor man even more.

“J.. Just a little at a time… I… I think I can heal… between the... nghh...intervals…”

Link helped the wounded Salesman over to his bed, where he collapsed with a pained groan. He tentatively reached out and gripped the spike, and the Salesman nodded. He braced himself for the reaction, and pulled.

The Salesman whimpered, but sure enough, a golden glow enveloped the spike.

“You’ll need… to pull harder. Don’t… don’t worry about me.”

So he did.

The Hero of Time had seen and heard a lot of disturbing things in the past, present, and future. But nothing could have prepared Link for the heartwrenching sound of the Happy Mask Salesman crying out in pain.

“Sorry… ghhhnnghh… sorry…”

Link was absolutely floored. He APOLOGIZED. Apologized for making noise when in unimaginable pain. The hero’s heart broke. Link carefully positioned himself closer to the Salesman before his next attempt.

The minutes seemed like hours. It hurt. It hurt him so much to see the Salesman like this, to cause him even more pain, even though it was to save his life. Why did the gods hold such stupid grudges? The tiny Ancient One had done nothing but happen to be born into a cursed race. And this was how the world repayed his kindness. His unsung protection.

The spike was coming free. Link gave his mentor a bit to at least try to catch his breath, and pulled, finally removing the weaponized ward in its entirety. The Salesman went limp with a relieved whimper, still gasping for breath. The deep wound had been reduced to a cut, a bit of blood still oozing from his chest.

“Link?! What in tarnation’s goi—“

Link froze. Talon had heard, and was standing in the doorway, frozen in horror at the bloody scene before him. Link had no time to hide the glowing spike. Or, for that matter, his very vulnerable friend.

“Please,” Link said, “He’s my friend, he’s not dangerous— some men attacked him, and, and he came to me, he’s got a curse on him but he’s not a monster, I swear—!”

Talon embraced the boy as the dam of stress finally burst and Link dissolved into tears.

“H-hello…!” the Salesman said breathlessly, “I, I’m fine, I promise. Link has… has done an… exceptional job.”

“Y-you sure?”

The Salesman nodded. Talon, practically clutching Link to his side, didn’t seem to care what Link’s small guest had been attacked with. He just wanted to make sure that both of them were okay.

“Well, sir, if you need anything, anything at all, you just say the word, alright?”

“Thank you… L-Link, it’s alright…”

The wounded Ancient reached out to Link, who gladly took his hand. The child lay down on the rug beside his bed, not wanting to move or disturb the Salesman. Talon brought the Salesman bandages and Link some spare blankets, and that was where he slept, listening to the recovering Salesman’s breathing evening out as he submitted to his exhaustion.

~~~

Link was awoken by Malon calling to him and the Salesman squeaking in surprise.

Climbing to his feet, he opened the door to find her with two platefuls of breakfast. 

“Link! I heard about what happened last night. Is your friend okay?”

Link nodded. It was nice to see someone besides himself concerned about the Salesman.

The two of them brought the plates in, greeted by half-lidded red eyes.

“Gotcha some breakfast!”

The Salesman looked surprised.

“I, er, th-thank you miss…!”

“You’re welcome! I’m glad you’re alright! Papa says you can stay as long as you need to. I’ll be out with Epona if you need anything!”

Link mentally snorted— he knew the Salesman would try to leave as soon as possible.

But damn it, Link was going to make sure that he at the very least finished that breakfast.


End file.
